


winter flake swirls

by IHaveNothingToDo



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Winter, Winter Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHaveNothingToDo/pseuds/IHaveNothingToDo
Summary: you are a winter storm
Relationships: ambiguous
Kudos: 3





	winter flake swirls

**Author's Note:**

> For Meowl

It's impossible to tell the time. the snow is furious in the sky, all of heaven’s rage and hell's righteousness dumped upon me in a swirling with ice and crystals so beautiful it hurts to look at them. I think of you. I boil water to make more hot drinks. I have not decided what kind of hot drink I will make. 

I think of you when I drape my favorite blanket around my shoulders. The storm rattles the windows in their frames. I shudder through a shiver. The clocks haven’t reset yet. It's impossible to know the hour. My sniffling is covered by the whistle of the kettle. My heart runs races in time to the frantic beat of our kitty cats paws as they take shelter between by feet, hidden by my blanket. I think of you when I scoop them up in one arm, and pull the kettle off. 

I watch the storm from the window, still shaking. In awe, in fear, in wonder, and in terror. I still the glass with my palm, flat against it's frigid surface. I think of you. Our cat croons, and I pour too mugs of hot water. I think of you, and decide to make _ you _ decide our drinks for the hour. The clocks flicker, but do not reveal their secrets. 

The sound of your keys in the lock sends me skittering down the hall as fast as skates against ice. I reel you into the heat of home, laughing. 

.

.

.

We are the embrace of fire and ice, the potential of hot water in mugs, and I see you in every swirling flake of all the winter storms.


End file.
